


A cure for homesickness

by Fox_In_A_Box



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (2014)
Genre: -Ish, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 05:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16130837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_In_A_Box/pseuds/Fox_In_A_Box
Summary: Deacon wasn't a stranger to Viago's over-dramatic antics, yet it pained him to see his friend in such a state. As obnoxious as his usual cheerful attitude could be, he had gotten so used to it throughout the decades that seeing him wear anything other than his excited smile almost felt wrong. Well, he did say he needed a distraction, didn't he?orDeacon has a pretty unorthodox way of cheering his friends up when they're feeling down and Viago really doesn't mind.[Prompt #57: "I miss the way things used to be."]





	A cure for homesickness

**Author's Note:**

> Here is where I took the prompt from!

The first thing Deacon heard when he crossed the doorway was a long, anguished sigh. It didn't take long to find the source of the sound, as it would have been pretty hard not to notice one of his flatmates currently lying on the couch, with an arm thrown over his face to cover his eyes.  
  
He wasn't a stranger to Viago's over-dramatic antics, yet it pained him to see his friend in such a state. As obnoxious as his usual cheerful attitude could be, he had gotten so used to it throughout the decades that seeing him wear anything other than his excited smile almost felt _wrong_.  
  
So he stepped over to the couch, methodically moved the other vampire's legs aside to make a little space for himself and sat down.  
  
"Alright," Deacon sighed, placing a hand on his friend's knee. "Want to talk about it?"  
  
"I miss the way things used to be," came the muffled answer.  
  
Deacon furrowed his brows. "I think I'll need you to be a little more specific than that."  
  
"When I was alive. It used to be so much easier."  
  
Ah, homesickness. Well, _time_ sickness would have been a better expression to describe it, but Deacon had never been very good with words and he was perfectly happy to stick to the ones that already existed without bothering to make up new ones.  
  
After being a vampire for some time you started to feel like the world moved too fast, like you were always rushing to catch up and somehow still managed to get left behind. And reminiscing about the past could do you some good as much as it could drag you down a bottomless pit of despair and regret. One moment you were relishing in the seemingly endless possibilities eternal life granted you and the other you were reduced to a pathetic, sobbing mess after remembering  how you could only watch as your younger sister grew older than you and slowly died of consumption.  
There was a reason Deacon never dwelled too much on old memories.  
  
"I can fetch you a virgin if you want," he tried. "Actually, you know what? the night's still young, why don't we both go out and hunt for virgins together?"  
  
"I don't think it would help."  
  
"Then tell me what would help! You can't just lay there and starve yourself until you feel better," Then, for the sake of not sounding too concerned, he added: "I have friends coming over tomorrow, and we'll need the couch."  
  
There was a long pause, at the end of which Viago simply admitted: "I don't know."  
  
Deacon huffed. He was _this_ close to losing his temper. Which, admittedly, wasn't a rare occurrence but he was still trying to keep his resolution of not lashing out against his friends if he could prevent it. He usually accomplished it by relying on two options: option one, finding another acceptable target on which he could unload his anger and frustration on, or option two, knitting.  
  
He raised from the couch to fetch his knitting supplies.  
  
"You always think too much. Which, I mean, it's not a bad thing but it's not doing you any favours right now."  
  
His words were met with silence and he decided not to press him further. He leaned back against the cushions and set to work. It was amazing how stitch after stitch tension started to fade from his shoulders, his body and mind finally relaxing.  
  
Oh, his flatmates could mock him all they wanted but they always ended up wearing what he made for them. And if that didn't speak about his amazing talent and fashion sense, then Deacon didn't know what else did.  
  
Minutes passed and, for some reason, his mind went back to Viago. Poor, innocent Viago who should have never been turned into a vampire in the first place. He was too soft for that kind of life. Hunting in the shadows, tearing open your victim's throat and draining of their blood them without a second thought, as much as he could try he just didn't have it in him.  
  
Where Vladislav tortured people for fun and Peytr did...whatever he did all night down in his basement, Viago was most at ease when he could dedicate himself to music and art. It wasn't hard to see why he sometimes struggled to fit in.  
  
Halfway through, Deacon realised that while he had let his thoughts wander he had forgotten _what_ he had started to knit in the first place and what from one side looked like a scarf, from the other looked like a really long glove. He muttered a curse under his breath and tossed it aside; he could always convince Nick to wear it claiming it was the height of fashion in the vampire community.  
  
Just as he was about to begin from scratch, Viago, who had remained uncharacteristically silent since their conversation had fallen flat, save for the occasional deep sigh, spoke up.  
  
"You're right, Deacon," he said, a melancholic edge in his voice. "I can't keep moping around for the rest of my life, can I? I think...I think I could use a distraction."  
  
Utterly miserable, that's how he sounded. And Deacon couldn't help but find it unsettling in a way he struggled to explain. Not that he was feeling sorry for him, was he? He just happened to like him a bit more when he was his usual cheerful, awkward self. Yes, that was more like it.  
  
A sudden idea flashed into his mind. Well, he _did_ say he needed a distraction and Deacon couldn't think of anything more distracting than that, if they were going to stay indoors.  
  
It wasn't something he did very often -not as often as he used to before being turned, anyway. As a vampire, having sex with humans was more bothersome than most people thought, as it presented the unique challenge of not eating your partner before both of you were finished. Needless to say, patience had never been one of Deacon's virtues. And it had been a while since he had entertained himself with other vampires too, so he couldn't help but feel excited at the thought. Maybe a little too excited, but who could blame him?  
  
He looked over at his friend, who had pulled himself into a half-sitting position, yet his eyes were still downcast. Well, he had to get him in the mood first.  
  
He set aside the still shapeless ball of yarn and inched closer to him, a hand oh-so-casually resting on Viago's thigh. Even then, he barely got a reaction.  
  
"Viago?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Look at me."  
  
Viago did, and the way he stared at him with his big, dark eyes made him even more eager.  
He reached for his face with his hand, tilted his chin upwards and, when Viago didn't back away, Deacon leaned in for a kiss.  
  
His lips were soft, almost like a woman's - a cliché, really, but Deacon didn't find it in himself to mind. Quite the opposite, actually. He felt him hum something against his lips, maybe some sort of half-hearted protest, but it was so short lived that he didn't have to worry about it.  
  
Before he knew, Viago's hands were on his hips and he was pulled forward until he was properly sat on his lap. He didn't even try to dissimulate the small moan that escaped him when finally, finally he felt him slip a hand at the back of his head, fingers tangling in his short hair, and coax him into another kiss. It was a good thing neither of them needed to catch his breath.  
  
"Vladislav will be out 'till morning," Deacon whispered, as he tilted his head to leave a trail of kisses down his jaw and what little was exposed of his neck. "Why don't we have some fun, just you and me?"  
  
The gasp Viago let out was somehow even more eloquent than the answer that followed.  
  
"I'd really like that, yes."  
  
  
  
*****  
  
  
  
"On the couch, really?"  
  
Deacon groaned and glanced over his shoulder to meet Vladislav's look of utter disapproval.  
  
As if he, of all people, had any right to be scandalised! They both were still _mostly dressed_ anyway, unlike the charming ladies he sometimes caught glimpses of when made the terrible mistake of walking into his room without knocking. Accidentally making eye contact with one of them was up there in his list of unpleasant experiences, right after accidentally flying against a closed window and just before eating human food.  
  
Sex was cool. Witnessing your roommate hosting a full-blown orgy on his bed, not so much.  
  
He was about to tell him to fuck off, but Viago was quicker and spoke up first. "I'm sorry you had to see that. Deacon said you weren't going to come back until sunrise..."  
  
"That's not the problem," Vldislav said. "Just take it somewhere else, alright? You can fuck each other wherever you want when it's _your_ turn to clean the furniture."  
  
"Whatever," Deacon huffed and climbed off of Viago's lap with ease, in a single, graceful movement.  
  
Or rather, that was his intention. The sad reality was that he somehow got entangled in his friend's ridiculously long legs and ended up stumbling, falling on his ass on the carpet. It was made all the more humiliating when Viago effortlessly stood up and fixed his clothes, like the perfect gentleman he was, before grabbing him by the wrist to help him up.  
  
"Then Deacon and I will be retiring to my room," he declared.  
  
Vladislav shrugged. "Have fun."  
  
Deacon would have very much liked to stay and argue some more about the fact that surely bitching about household chores wasn't an acceptable excuse for ruining their fun, but Viago had the presence of mind to bodily drag him away from the living room, through half of the corridor and finally through the door that led to Viago's bedroom before he had the chance to start a fight with their flatmate.  
  
"Fucking rude," Deacon snorted, leaning back against the door as soon as it closed behind him. "The couch was already ruined, anyway."  
  
"Yes," Viago agreed. "But it was his right to call us out. I would have done the same if the roles had been reversed and I'm sure you would have too."  
  
"I was doing a favour to a friend, chasing away his sadness with my erotic skills. It was a nice moment and if I was him I would have had the decency to respect that, that's what I would have done!"  
  
Viago let out a small laugh and Deacon, despite himself, soon joined him.  
Then a pause, silence momentarily filling the small room. Then, Viago cleared his throat.  
  
"Actually, I wouldn't mind being distracted some more if you will-- Uh, I mean..."  
  
Deacon raised one eyebrow, fighting back the grin that had already began to form at the corner of his mouth. "Yes?"  
  
"Come here?"  
  
Deacon was very happy to comply.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw the movie for the first time like two weeks ago and I'm already writing fanfic. Yeah, I'm /that/ terrible.


End file.
